Chapter 2: I Mean The Interview from Hell

Well, then. At least I can go down knowing I lasted longer than two minutes with the formidable Vincent Valiant. Dread fills the room as Shirley and Greg both shake their heads, already saying their goodbyes. For a second, I want to puke and run out crying, but as the sky-blue colored eyes of Vincent Valiant tear through my skin, I only find anger. This is my big break. I'm a kick-ass woman with a master's degree and I will not let an asshole million-billionaire with too much money judge me.

Why is he even in on this interview? He didn't give me two seconds of time when I walked in the room, and now, he wants to call me out. Screw him.

"I believe the skills I learned help in marketing, Mr. Valiant," I say, not dropping his gaze. If I'm going to go out, I'm going out in a blaze of glory—a big ass fiery blaze of glory.

For a flicker, I swear he almost smiles. The left side of his cheek moves up, even if he squashes it back down to the frown splashed across his face in every professional picture he's ever taken. Photography does not do him justice. If he didn't appear so pissed off all the time, I'd be melting in my seat out of lust rather than anger.

"Do you find you have a hard time listening to directions?" he asks.

Yes, but only when people annoy me.

With the dramatic pause they teach in campus interviewing classes, I pretend to think on his question for a second although I've had my answer prepared since the moment he finished. "I listen to directions when given respectfully, Mr. Valiant."

Shirley and Greg sit, not moving a muscle next to their boss. Greg's eyes widen like he's waiting for security to escort me out, and frankly he wouldn't be the only one. There's no way I'm getting the marketing assistant job at Valiant Industries. Understanding how far out of my element I am takes off the nervous pressure that settled around me on the elevator ride.

"Can you multitask?" Valiant asks another question, though I can't figure out the purpose. Why waste more of our time? "Have any experience with multi-line phone systems and sending out professional emails? Know how to pick up dry cleaning?" He lobs the questions one after another in my direction without giving me actual time to answer.

Now I pause for real. "It is my understanding I'm interviewing for a marketing assistant position?"

Normal job things activities. You know, making copies, working on ad copy, taking notes during meetings, sure. Heck, I'm even prepared to make a gazillion cups of coffee, but the rest of the stuff he's talking about causes me to pause.

"Most of that was not in the job description." I would remember dry cleaning.

This time he smirks like we're playing an invisible game of chess and he just won when I haven't even put my pawns on the board yet. "That's where you're mistaken, Ms. Marshal. We're interviewing for my personal assistant."

Shirley cuts in, earning herself a vicious glare from her boss. "That's right, Mr. Valiant's assistant had her baby early, and we weren't able to fill the position. His needs have now taken precedence over other hiring in the company."

She's so cheery with her explanation I almost believe her, except for the fact his assistant's baby probably jumped out of the womb early from fear.

"I see," I say, placing my manila folder back in my briefcase. "Well, I appreciate the interview, but I'm looking for a position that will utilize my marketing skills." I didn't go to school for six years and get myself forty thousand dollars in debt to be a jerk's assistant.

Valiant picks his phone back up like he's done with me, and when he talks, he doesn't bother to make eye contact. "The position pays double the marketing assistant job and if you can survive working under me until my assistant returns, Shirley will make sure you have a cubicle waiting for you in marketing."

I lean back in the chair startled. Double the pay and I only have to make it until the unlucky sap returns? I bite my tongue. I can handle a few weeks. Right? Positions at Valiant Industries rarely come available, and landing one would be worth taking directions from the asshole CEO for a few short months.

"Okay," I say, not one hundred percent sure if I've accepted a position or agreed to continuing with the interview.

It doesn't matter because a buzz sounds from Vincent's phone and he stands, rolling the chair out from behind him. "I'm afraid we don't need to finish this interview. Thank you, but I have a very important meeting starting. I will walk Ms. Marshal out of the building. Thank you, Shirley," he says, ignoring Greg.

I steal a glance at my other two interviewers, and they both appear as confused. When Valiant glides past the table, I grab my briefcase and walk out of a conference room, leaving the expensive résumés. Henry, my ex, gave me the case as a graduation gift for good luck, but much like our relationship, it doesn't seem to be working out for me.

Valiant walks directly to the elevator with long strides and I follow, not saying a word. The doors close with each of us on our own respective sides of the small space, and he continues to type on his phone while I work on dealing with their rejection. It was a long shot, and I'd always understood the odds were not on my side with this company and my lack of experience. But I allowed myself to get excited this morning—to dream of what it would be like to work for an industry leader.

By the time we reach the third floor, I've found a happy medium. The plan has always been to get the hell out of Michigan as soon as I could after graduation. This job interview helped me visualize a different future, but now I have nothing holding me here. I promised to help Ashley, my roommate, get through her bar exam, and then when our lease runs out, I'll pack my bags and head south.

The elevator doors open on the first floor and I step out, expecting to leave on my own. To my surprise, Valiant follows me to the front doors. I stop and turn in his direction, ready to give a polite thank you and one last glance at his jaw for the road. I should get something out of this. He may not have hired me for his assistant, but I'll always look back on this interview as eventful. Also, thankfully I don't have to work for an ass of a boss like him.

Relief the ordeal is over makes me smile, and Valiant's expression falters seeing my cheerful smile. Startled, he leaves my hand hanging for a second before he lowers his phone from his face.

"You'll start tomorrow at nine. We begin the work day at eight, but this will give everyone time to get started before they have to show you around the office."

My mouth drops open. "Tomorrow?"

He sighs like I'm too much trouble for him. "Yes, Ms. Marshal."

"I got the job?"

He nods. "You're hired. Don't make me regret it."

Holy shit.